


knock some sense into me

by gaypanic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blind Character, F/F, Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-23 22:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaypanic/pseuds/gaypanic
Summary: Soulmates are only legend: two people, each born without one of their senses, sharing an act of true love and having their respective senses restored.“I don’t see it happening,” Emma jokes, but Snow isn’t amused.





	knock some sense into me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saxgoddess25](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxgoddess25/gifts).



> This fic was written for the OUAT femslash exchange! For saxgoddess25! I was originally going to write you a Snow Queen fic (you’ll probably figure out why when my identity is revealed lol) but I couldn’t come up with a worthy plot. Instead, I chose this one, so my muses and I appreciate that your request was open ended, and I really hope you like this!! It was so fun to write, and hopefully just as fun to read :)
> 
> Notes for reading: Snow is _not_ Emma’s birth mother and she _is_ still a bandit, but not because of Regina or Cora. Regina and Emma are the same age. This is set in the EF but there’s no magic. Snow was never queen or a princess, just a bandit.

(Emma)

 

Emma Swan was born blind, and she thinks it probably ruined her birth mother’s life (whoever that bitch was) more than it did her own. According to Snow, she had been abandoned in the woods at birth, but luckily the bandit had found her and decided to take her in. Emma’s more grateful to her than to anyone in the world, because she learned the hard way that no one wants a blind daughter.

 

Snow never minded though. She taught Emma everything she could about how to survive in the world, vision or not, helping Emma realize that her blindness didn’t necessarily make her reliant on anyone else. “All your other senses still work.  _ Well _ . You’re not going to have any trouble; I’ll make sure of it.”

 

So from the time she could walk, she learned how to navigate herself with minimal struggle, first inside their small cottage and then in the woodsy area surrounding it. 

 

Sometimes she wished she could be  _ normal _ , but for the most part, being blind didn’t feel like an inconvenience as her birth mother must have thought it would be. Rather, it was just the way life was for her.

 

“What if it wasn’t?” Snow had asked her one day, her voice full of excitement.

 

“But it is…” Emma said, chuckling nervously. “I know you’re really optimistic, but some things just can’t be fixed.”

 

“Well, yes…” Emma offered the woman a smile, hoping it would bring back the cheeriness in her voice. She didn’t like to see Snow upset. Or well,  _ hear  _ her upset. “But, Emma. Haven’t you heard any stories? About soulmates?”

 

Emma turned her head away. She  _ had _ heard a few things. It was mostly legend, but it was said that some people born without one of their senses have a soulmate in the world, also missing a sense. The stories say that when these people find each other and fall in love, sealing the act with a kiss, their missing sense would be restored.

 

Not only did most of the world dismiss it as fiction, but it was incredibly rare, with only a few examples of people who had this experience. Even then, there was no way of knowing if they were valid accounts of real people. No one had ever met any of them.

 

Emma laughed uneasily. “You never know, I guess. But I think I’m just blind.”

 

She could imagine the frown forming on Snow’s face, but Emma didn’t want to dwell on the possibility. Even if it were true and she had a soulmate out there, how would she even meet them? Who’s to say they would even fall in love? Her birth mother had kicked her to the curb, so why should she hope for some elusive soulmate to want her?

 

But a part of her still hoped. 

 

 

(Regina)

 

Regina never thought there was anything wrong with her until she was about seven, old enough to ask questions but still young enough to be outspoken and get away with it. 

 

She knew food was a source of energy and that being hungry sucked, but she couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly put some of these foods in their mouth. Some were unnatural colors, some felt like slime, others were too hard, and many more were just... unpleasant.

 

She could bear some of it, but it was almost impossible watching some of her mother’s dinner guests eating plate after plate of some of these options. There was not a single thing Regina could find appealing. 

 

One day she’d had enough.

 

“Why do you keep eating that stuff?” She asked a guest at one of her mother’s parties. This particular dish was bright orange and mushy. Sweet potatoes, it was called, and it was decidedly her least favorite food.

 

“It tastes delicious,” the man answered. “Haven’t you ever tried it?”

 

“It’s terrible. It feels like mud.”

 

The man let out a laugh. “Well it doesn’t  _ taste _ like mud…” Regina’s brow furrowed. Is that not what she had just said? What was she missing?

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means that even though it feels gross, like mud, it doesn’t taste like mud,” the man answered, a gentle smile on his face as if he was humoring just some silly childlike questions.

 

“What’s the difference?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Regina gave up, believing the man too incompetent to have the answers. So she asked her dad.

 

“Daddy? What’s taste?”

 

He looked as confused about her question as she did about the scenario. “Well, it’s a sense…” he started, trying to think of the best way to explain the concept to a seven year old. “It’s what you call it when your tongue tells you about something’s flavors.”

 

“Oh. Are flavors feelings?”

 

Henry’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Regina, come with me,” he said, leading her to the kitchen. He found a piece of hard candy and handed to her She wrinkled her nose at it before putting it in her mouth. “What does that taste like?”

 

She just looked up at him, lost. “It’s hard and takes too long to eat. One time I bit one and it hurt my teeth. I don’t think I like it.”

 

“It doesn’t taste sweet?”

 

Regina shook her head. “I don’t understand what that means,” she said, spitting out the candy.

 

Henry seemed shocked by it, and Cora refused to believe it, but that was how Regina learned that she couldn’t taste anything.

 

Her mother had no explanation for it, but she told her not to talk about it. “You don’t want anyone thinking you’re broken, do you?”

 

Regina  _ didn’t _ want that. So she held her tongue and wondered what the point of even having it was.

 

Now that she’s older, she’s learned to just deal with it, having no taste. It’s not like she has anything to compare it to, although she does wonder sometimes what she’s missing out on. She talked to a girl at another of Cora’s dances last week who talked about how comforting food could be, going on about how one good taste of dessert could brighten someone’s day, especially something like chocolate.

 

Regina made a face, gesturing at the lavish display of the confection, melted down for dipping. “It looks like excrement,” she said. “What’s the point?” The girl didn’t talk to her anymore after that.

 

Another girl went on about how she could kiss the boy she’s courting forever. Regina rolled her eyes. “Your lips would get sore.”

 

The girl scowled at her. “Obviously you’ve never liked kissing someone, if you’ve ever kissed anyone at all. Besides, it’s not just about how his lips  _ feel _ . It’s about how they  _ taste _ .” Regina blinked in surprise. She’d never thought that  _ people _ tasted a certain way when you kissed them. A blush spread on her face as she considered everything she hadn’t before. “Don’t worry,” the girl sneered. “I’m sure you’ll get kissed someday.”

 

It was annoying to say the least.

 

Today is no exception. “Regina, dear, your birthday is coming up. Eighteen is a big number so we need to make sure your ball is perfect.” The brunette shrugs dismissively. “We have to go to the kitchens for taste testing.”

 

“Are you serious?” 

 

Cora smiles, “Why not?”

 

Huffing a breath, Regina tries not to snap at her mother. “Well, for one, I go riding at this time every Monday. And two, you know I can’t taste anything.”

 

“Oh, dear. Not this again,” Cora sighs. “You can miss out on riding today because we have something more important to do--”

 

“That  _ I  _ can’t even help with...” Regina interrupts. “If I go with you for a little bit, can I still go riding?”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

An hour later, Regina is calling it quits. All of her suggestions for food and refreshments don’t meet Cora’s expectations. Her mother turns most of them down. “They’re too  _ bland _ ,” she says.

 

“Well I wonder why…” Regina retorts, receiving a harsh glare from her mother. She throws her arms up. “By all means, go on without me. It’s not like I’m contributing anything anyway,” she mumbles as she storms out of the room and out of the castle.

 

She’s so eager to just…  _ be away  _ that she doesn’t even go by the stables, not even thinking about it until she’s too far in the opposite direction to change her mind.

 

She  _ should _ be watching where she’s going, but instead she’s storming her way through the forest, letting her emotions get the better of her. By the time she crashes into another person,  _ literally _ , she’s become a tiny ball of rage.

 

“Watch where you’re going,” she snaps, even though she knows the collision was mostly, if not entirely, her fault.

 

Regina steps away from the person, a blonde around the same age as her, and she looks more irritated than Regina felt only moments ago, an affronted look on her face, refusing to look at her.

 

Maybe she should just apologize and leave the girl alone, but something about the blonde holds Regina there, so she tries to catch her eye. It’s not for a few moments of awkward eye chasing that she realizes the girl can’t see her.

 

“Oh.”

 

The blonde shrugs before turning away. “It’s whatever.”

 

Regina’s nothing but surprised when the other girl suddenly crouches by a nearby stream and pulls some kind of spear from her back. She notices the basket next to her. Is this girl really about to spear fish? Regina can’t help but gape in awe, but at the same time… 

 

“What are you doing out here? Aren’t you worried you’ll get hurt?”

 

The other girl just scoffs, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

 

Regina crosses her arms tightly across her chest, shifting on her feet, but she doesn’t go anywhere, her eyes locked on the blonde as she ignores Regina in favor of spearing fish. “Fine, well excuse me for worrying about a total stranger,” she mutters.

 

She expects the blonde not to answer her again, so when she’s suddenly standing up, facing in Regina’s direction, looking more irritated than before, she’s grateful that the girl can’t see the surprised vulnerability on her face.

 

“Can you please shut up?”

 

Regina blinks in surprise. “What?” It’s not that the girl in front of her looked demure or anything, but she certainly didn’t expect the spitfire attitude.

 

“I’m trying to fish,” she explains slowly, holding her spear out a little for emphasis.

 

“Okay…”

 

“How do you expect me to catch anything with you talking? By  _ looking _ ?”

 

“I, um--” Regina swallows hard, glancing around a little helplessly. She isn’t sure how she got  _ here _ , but she thinks she ought to at least try to fix it. “Do you need help?”

 

Apparently it’s the wrong thing to say because the blonde doesn’t hold back any of the groan she lets out in that moment, throwing her head back in frustration before slinging the spear over her back once again and grabbing the basket. 

 

She’s already made it a few steps away from Regina before the brunette speaks up. “Wait…” She doesn’t know why she’s bothering. The girl is annoying at best, but Regina can’t seem to stop looking at her... or talking to her. “I’m sorry.”

 

The blonde turns on the spot, her expression softer as her head turns towards the ground. “It’s okay,” she mumbles. “You were trying to be nice, and I was yelling at you.”

 

Regina gave a sympathetic nod, realizing too late that the other girl can’t see it.

 

“It’s just that people are always rude to me. Or think I’m incapable. I always have to be ready to prove myself.”

 

Regina lets out a single laugh. “You were just  _ spearing fish _ . How could anyone think you’re incapable?” Her face warms immediately after she says it, realizing how much of a compliment that was, and tries to ignore the blush spreading on the blonde’s face too.

 

“Yeah, well… I didn’t catch anything.”

 

“But you will.” The corners of the blonde’s lips turn up enough to make Regina beam. “I’m Regina, by the way.”

 

The other girl smiles a little bigger. “Emma.”

 

_ Emma _ . “Emma. It’s nice to meet you.” It’s a little embarrassing to Regina, just how much she’s smiling, but she just  _ can’t help it _ . This girl is strong in all the places people expect her to be weak, adept in ways that other people take for granted, and just… beautiful.

 

At least Emma doesn’t have to  _ know _ she’s smiling.

 

“Well, um… I’ll let you get back you your fishing…” Regina says, backing away. As she turns, she wishes she weren’t, and when she hears Emma abruptly speak behind her, her heart skips in her chest. 

 

“Wait.”

 

When Regina turns around, she’s still smiling, still blushing, and she can’t look up at the blonde, even though she knows it doesn’t make a difference. “Yes?”

 

Emma wrings her hands nervously in front of her, biting her lower lip, and it makes Regina feel a whole lot better about how  _ she _ feels regarding this exchange. “Can we meet again?”

 

In retrospect, it seems like the kind of thing Regina should have expected for Emma to say, but instead, it completely knocks her off her feet. Emma doesn’t have any idea that Regina is a princess, and she has even less of an idea what she looks like, but here she stands, wanting to spend more time with her based on her personality alone, something that could have been better throughout this brief interaction.

 

She’s surprised, but that doesn’t stop her from agreeing to a second meeting. Or planning it. Or anticipating it the minute she steps away like a giddy school girl and not at all like someone supposed to become queen one day. 

 

If only her mother could see her now.

 

 

(Emma)

 

After Regina leaves, Emma tries to focus on her fishing, at least long enough to catch something, and it takes longer than it normally does for her to return home with less. Though when she gets home, Snow doesn’t ask her about the amount of fish she caught.

 

“What are you so smiley about?”

 

“What?” Emma is so alarmed by the question that she almost drops the basket. Hadn’t she stopped by now? Or was the smile still stuck on her face hours later and she’d just gotten so used to it, she couldn’t tell?

 

“You look awfully happy,” Snow eggs her on.

 

“Oh, uh, yeah…”

 

“Yeah…?”

 

“ _ Fine _ . I met someone, okay?”

 

Snow lets out an exaggerated gasp. “What kind of someone?”

 

“Just… a girl,” Emma answers, shuffling her feet against the floor of the kitchen, afraid that somehow if she says too much, it’s like none of it will have been real. But of course Snow is too excited, wanting to know  _ everything _ .

 

With an excited squeal, she fires off a strong of questions. “Where’d you meet her? Is that why you’re home so late? Did you teach her how to fish? Did she already _ know _ how to fish? Are you going to see her again? Does she like you? Oh, who am I kidding, of course she does. Do you like her? Sorry, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m just--” the woman interrupts herself with another squeal, and Emma laughs.

 

“It’s okay, really. Um, well, we met when I was fishing. She asked me if I wanted help, and--”

 

“You didn’t yell at her did you?” Snow asks in a reproachful voice.

 

Emma laughs again. Snow knows her well enough that she doesn’t need to answer the question. She hears the woman sigh before she continues. “It was fine. She apologized, and it was really cute.”

 

“Okay, so  _ you _ like  _ her _ … does  _ she _ like  _ you _ ?”

 

At that Emma shrugs, turning away. “I don’t know. Maybe. I asked if we could meet again, and she said yes. And uh, I could hear her smiling… when she was talking to me. Even after I yelled at her, I could tell she was. So, she might.”

 

“When are you meeting next?”

 

 

 

(Regina)

 

It’s about a week later the next time she and Emma see each other, and Regina is frustrated because her mother holds her up… again. Only this time is different. Regina doesn’t just want to leave her mother’s presence, she wants to be in Emma’s.

 

This time it’s just some nonsense conversation about something her mother finds important, something Regina doesn’t, another topic she brushes off with generic responses as she ignores it all. Sometimes she wonders if it would be better or worse if she were born without hearing instead of taste, though she’s sure Cora would have just abandoned her. It’s the kind of thing that would be harder to hide, and even if she was just a normal person, her mother would think of Regina’s deafness as a  _ problem _ . Or would she find a way to deny it like she does with taste?

 

By the time Regina gets away from her mother’s incessant talking, it’s already a half hour after she’s supposed to meet up with Emma. She runs through the woods and hopes that the blonde doesn’t think that Regina stood her up.

 

It’s almost a full hour later when Regina gets to the clearing by the stream, and she worries when she doesn’t see Emma waiting for her. She sighs and is about to perch on a rock when she hears a rustle and looks up to see Emma poking her head out from behind a tree, a concentrated look on her face as she listens out for her.

 

“It’s me,” Regina says, walking over to the blonde to take a seat next to her. Emma grins over at her. “Sorry I’m late…”

 

“It’s okay, really.”

 

“You’re not… upset?” Emma’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “I was worried you would be upset that I was late. Or that you’d think I wasn’t going to show up at all.”

 

The smile comes back, lifting the corners of Emma’s lips as she shakes her head. “No, I wasn’t worried about that. I was just worried about…” she trails off, suddenly looking nervous. “Everything’s okay though, right?”

 

Regina shrugs as she lowers herself to sit next to Emma, their backs against the tree and their shoulders pressed together. “It’s okay. My mother is just… impossible. I feel like I’m always trying to get away from her.”

 

“Are you?”

 

“For the most part. I was running from her the last time I was here too. She was being more infuriating then though. This time I was just concerned about missing you.” She turns in time to see Emma blush. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” Regina admits.

 

“Me too. I’m sorry you had to deal with your mother though.”

 

Regina shrugs, “It’s nothing new. I’ve been dealing with her my whole life, and I’m sure it’s not going to stop anytime soon.” Regina sighs, unsure if she really wants to get into it, but she feels like she can trust Emma. “I think my mother resents me. For being  _ defective _ . Her word, not mine,” Regina adds.

 

“Defective?”

 

“Uh, yeah… well, she denies it most days, but whenever it first came up, she was really angry about it. I guess now she thinks my only ‘defect’ is that I’m a liar, or that I choose to make her life miserable just because I can’t taste anything. And I try not to bring it up, but it always sneaks it’s way in when she’s always pointing out how I shouldn’t always eat the same boring foods or that I need to go to  _ taste testings  _ with her. It’s just--” Regina stops abruptly, noting that Emma’s jaw has gone slack in surprise. “What?”

 

“You don’t have taste?”

 

Regina shakes her head, frustrated with herself for making the mistake. “Sorry, I mean,  _ no.  _ I don’t have taste. It’s really stupid, I know.”

 

“Wow,” Emma breathes, and she sounds so amazed that Regina laughs, not expecting that kind of reaction at all.

 

“What?”

 

“I’ve never met anyone else missing a sense before.”

 

Regina blinks, “Is that… significant?”

 

Emma looks conflicted then, like she isn’t sure if she wants to say whatever’s on her mind. With a nervous laugh, she decides to go for it. “Well, Snow is always telling me these stories about soulmates. People who are both missing senses but have them restored by the power of true love when they find each other. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but one of the reasons I thought it was so far fetched was because I’d never even met someone else with a missing sense.”

 

Regina must have been silent for a beat too long because Emma nudges her shoulder lightly. “Have you never heard of that?”

 

“No,” she answers, her voice quiet. “It’s not the kind of thing my mother would have told me about. If she’d even heard it at all.”

 

“I mean, not a lot of people believe in soulmates. And if she was already weird about the taste thing, it makes sense that she wouldn’t feel you that. Snow told me because she wanted me to be optimistic, that one day I would meet my soulmate and that I would be able to see again.” 

 

Regina hesitates before asking, “Do you believe it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Emma says, shaking her head dismissively. “It seems too good to be true. Plus as far as I know, you’re the only one I’ve met without a sense. If soulmates were real, I feel like there would be more people wandering around without senses?”

 

Regina nods, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 

The subject changes after that, to anything and everything less heavy than what they’ve discussed so far, covering the basics that they probably should have covered first, but neither of them seem to mind that they delved into more personal territory before they did fun facts about each other.

 

They cover a lot of ground, from interests to dislikes, past times to current hobbies. Regina talks about her favorite color, trying to describe it to Emma in a way that resonates with her, and Emma does the same with her favorite food. They discuss nearly everything, but Regina holds back the  _ royalty _ detail, afraid it will change the way Emma thinks about her.

 

Emma is easy to talk to, and Regina loves that she can get away with smiling at her throughout the conversation without getting caught. They’ve moved on from the soulmate talk, but for some reason, Regina can’t get it out of her head. She can’t help but wonder if there’s some kind of rationalization behind her inability to taste. 

 

By the time she returns home, she’s thinking of little else, and she doesn’t  _ want _ to ask her mother so much as she  _ needs _ to. If it’s real, her mother would know, right?

 

“Mother?” Cora hums in response. “Have you ever heard any stories about soulmates?”

 

The response she gets is a snort, though somehow less nasal as if her mother thought she could make it sound more ladylike.  “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no such thing.”

 

“How else do you explain the way I can’t taste anything? I have taste buds. You can  _ see  _ them,” she sticks out her tongue, hoping it will make her mother think more rationally, but instead she clicks her tongue in disapproval.

 

“Stop that. As for your… impairment. I  _ don’t _ explain it. I have no need to, and you shouldn’t either.”

 

“But--” 

 

Cora walks away, ignoring her entirely.

 

Regina is determined though, not wanting to give this up so easily. If she’s going to be dwelling on the concept (and if the majority of the time she’s already spent thinking about it is any indication, she’ll be dwelling on it  _ a lot _ ), she needs to talk to  _ someone  _ about this.

 

She thinks maybe she could talk to her father, but as a person who ended up married to… her mother, she isn’t sure he really wants to talk about anyone else’s happy endings.

 

So she goes to the only other person she feels she can trust on the subject. Cook.

 

It was such an unlikely pair from the start, but when Regina figured out that she was missing something apparently amazing,  _ taste _ , she had been  _ broken _ . Not just physically but emotionally as well, and she felt so alone. She’d run to the kitchens, sure that she could figure out some kind of cure for her problem. She didn’t find one, but she did find a friend.

 

Cook was always there for Regina, reassuring her that she wasn’t missing out on anything, even if it meant dismissing her own dishes. After the last time Regina sobbed into another tasteless bowl of soup, babbling about her predicament, they never talked about Regina’s lack of taste.

 

Now that it’s come back up, Cook looks at her with a gentleness in her eyes, like she knew this day would come. “What did you hear?” she asks with a mischievous smile.

 

“Someone told me there were legends. About soulmates, and about people missing a sense getting it back in full when they meet their soulmate.” She sees the recognition in Cook’s eyes before she even says  _ soulmate _ , and by the time she’s asking, “Is it true?” she thinks she already has the answer.

 

“Well, you know that it’s legend. Very unheard of. Very  _ rare _ . There aren’t many records of it written, which is where the skepticism comes from.”

 

“But it has happened… hasn’t it? Otherwise no one would ever talk about it.”

 

Cook nods, “It has, yes.”

 

“But… how do you know?” The woman grins at her, and it takes Regina a moment to realize-- “No  _ way _ ! You? Has it happened to you?”

 

“It was many years ago, but yes. It happened to me,” she confirms, and Regina can do nothing but sputter half formed questions until Cook chuckles at her. “Calm down, sweet. I’ll tell you the story.”

 

It was the best thing Regina had ever heard, and as Cook told her everything, she gaped in wonder, almost unable to believe it.

 

Cook had been born with the inability to smell, and by extension, her taste was limited. She always knew something was wrong, and as her father taught her to cook growing up, she struggled with the idea that she would be unable share his passion. So she made her own, singing while she worked along with her father,

 

One day there was a boy named Eli, and he couldn’t hear, so he never spoke. He was in charge of delivering vegetables to the royal kitchen from nearby farms, and the minute his eye met Cook’s, something stirred within the both of them. 

 

He would stay longer after each delivery just watching Cook work in the kitchen, a dopey smile on his face at the way she danced while she sang, despite not being able to hear any of the words. The extent of their communication was fleeting glances and longing looks, until one day, they bumped into each other, and Eli caught Cook in his arms, holding her up so she wouldn’t fall.

 

When they kissed their whole world changed.

 

“And now you can smell?” 

 

Cook nods with a wide grin. “Sure makes my job much easier. And better,” she adds with a snort. “I shudder to think the kind of meals I used to send out before I met Eli.”

 

“Where is he now?” 

 

An accepted sadness settles on Cook’s features, and Regina doesn’t need to her to say anything. “It’s been a rough two years without him. We were together for forty years, you know.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Regina tells her.

 

“It’s okay, sweet. It’s how it goes sometimes.” The mood remains for a moment before Cook’s eyes light back up, “So, you must be asking for a reason, eh? Do you believe you have a soulmate out there somewhere?”

 

At that, Regina can only blush. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but what if… 

 

It’s hardly a week later, and Regina is  _ still _ thinking about soulmates. Cook’s story, what Emma told her, what Emma believes, what she herself believes, and she’s almost too distracted to pay her mother any mind as she has another outburst about some  _ peasant _ getting in her way.

 

“She was almost trampled by the carriage. I will  _ not _ have the reputation of being careless.” Regina scoffs to herself.  _ No, just  _ heartless, she thinks bitterly. “She’s just some blind girl. Her existence is obviously a waste so I have her imprisoned. We can execute her if no one comes to find her.”

 

Her mother has her full attention as Regina tries to catch up on the conversation, listening for any more details, but she doesn’t get any.

 

She excuses herself from dinner early, planning to sneak down to the dungeons. It might not be Emma, but if it is she doesn’t want to take the chance.

 

 

(Emma)

 

Emma is without a doubt having the worst day of her entire life. Not only did she wander into unfamiliar territory, she almost got run over by a carriage that appeared out of nowhere. To top it all off, it was apparently  _ the Queen’s _ carriage, and Emma didn’t know a lot about the woman, but she knew enough to know that she wasn’t fair, by any means.

 

The Queen upheld her reputation and proved it to Emma as she barked at her from the carriage about not watching where she was going before proceeding to tell her how useless the space she took up was. “Oh, you’re a peasant  _ and  _ you’re blind. Well that answers  _ that  _ question.”

 

“What question?” Emma dared to ask.

 

“What’s to be done with you.”

 

As it turns out, what’s to be done was to throw Emma in the dungeon and hope someone comes to rescue her before daybreak. It’s the perfect end to her worst nightmare. 

 

She thinks she could send a bird message to Snow, but she searches for signs of a window and comes up empty. Then she thinks maybe she could escape by picking the lock, but when she tries, she realizes it’s hopeless, the lock being impenetrable.

 

She groans and sinks to the floor. Snow worries about her when she’s gone for too long, so maybe she’ll be searching for her. Although, she might assume Emma has taken up camp somewhere safe. There’s no way for her to know until it happens ( _ if _ it happens…).

 

It’s been about five hours of leaning against the wall and waiting for  _ something _ , but all she gets are the grumbles and cries of a few people in the cells around her. At one point there’s a few clatters in each cell, delivering a meal, if it could even be called that. From the smell of it, Emma can only gather it’s last week’s leftovers and stale bread. She doesn’t touch it.

 

The dungeon gets more quiet the longer time passes, and Emma guesses that it’s probably nighttime and everyone has drifted to sleep. She stays awake despite her exhaustion, and she’ll stay that way until she thinks of some means of escape, even if she has to bribe a guard or knock someone out when they open the door to her cell.  _ This _ isn’t how her story’s going to end. 

 

She wonders what Regina would think if she didn’t show up for their next meeting.

 

The thought breaks her heart a little.

 

Suddenly there’s a dull creaking, and Emma perks up, noting the sneaky undertones of the sound and wondering if this could be her escape. She isn’t sure what to expect, but when she hears her name suddenly whispered through the silence, a definitive question, her eyebrows go skyward as she stands to follow the noise.

 

“Emma?” 

 

It almost sounds like…

 

“Regina?” Emma questions through the bars of the cell, squinting even though it makes no difference.

 

“Emma, oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here.” She isn’t sure what’s weirder: the fact that Regina just said  _ that _ or that she’s here for Emma at all.

 

“That makes one of us,” Emma deadpans. “What are you doing here? How did you know to find me here?” She has a few more questions along those lines, but they all slip from her mind when she hears a set of keys, the click of a lock, and the door to her cell swinging open. “How do you have the key?”

 

Regina doesn’t explain anything, she just takes Emma’s hand and cautiously leads her from the dungeon. They go up a flight of stairs and around a few corners before Regina stops and turns to Emma. “Stay here okay? I need to put these back before she finds out they’re missing. I’ll be right back.” She gives Emma’s hand a soft squeeze before her fingers slip away and Emma is left standing alone. 

 

She’s back within minutes, taking Emma’s hand again as she says, “I’m back. Are you okay?”

 

Really, Emma doesn’t know. 

 

“Where are we going?” she asks, ignoring Regina’s question in favor of her own, something more prevalent than her wellbeing. Regina is leading her up another flight of stairs, and maybe Emma’s never been in the castle until today, but she’s pretty sure she was only dragged down  _ one _ flight before being tossed in the dungeon. 

 

“I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

 

“Get  _ where _ ?” Emma stubbornly demands.

 

She doesn’t get a reply until they’ve turned a few more corners, walked down a long hallway and gone through a doorway. Regina shuts the door with a loud thud, still gripping Emma’s hand tight as she does so. She releases a sigh of relief when it’s shut, and Emma feels okay enough to yank back her hand.

 

“Regina, what the hell is going on?”

 

“Emma, just hear me out okay?”

 

“ _ Where are we _ ? I don’t understand how you found me.”

 

“Maybe you should sit down…”

 

Emma crosses her arms. “Show me where, and I’ll do it.”

 

“Um…” she hears Regina move from one place to another, and there’s a rustling of fabric and the tossing of a few items before she’s finally next to Emma again, leading her to  _ said place to sit _ . “It’s a little high. You got it?”

 

“Is this a  _ bed _ ?” Emma asks, gaping in Regina’s direction.

 

“Yes.”

 

She shakes her head as she climbs on it, and if she doubted whether or not she was still in the castle, she was no longer wondering. This was without a doubt the most comfortable bed she’s ever been on. “Okay, seriously, where are we?”

 

“Don’t be mad,” Regina starts.

 

“I’m not mad.” 

 

“Okay,” Regina breathes out, a little shaky, and Emma can hear her pacing back and forth in front of Emma. “So, we’re in my room. I knew where you were because my mother said something about executing a girl in the morning, who’s blind, and I thought it could be you.”

 

Emma’s jaw goes slack as she tries to connect the dots. “And your mother is…”

 

“Cora.”

 

“The  _ Queen _ ?” From what Regina’s told Emma about her mother so far, and what she knows about Cora, it makes sense, but that would mean… “So you’re a  _ princess _ ?”

 

Regina inhales sharply. “Yes…” she admits, hesitation clear in her voice, “But please don’t let that change the way you see me.”

 

“Not a problem,” Emma snorts.

 

_ She _ thinks it’s kind of funny, through the shocking turn of events, but Regina finds it less so, huffing in frustration. “I’m sorry. I meant…” 

 

“It’s fine. I know what you meant.” The room is silent for a long moment, and Emma can’t tell if Regina is facing her or not, but she slides off the bed and inches along its side a few steps in the direction of the door. “Well, I’ll get out of your way then. Thanks for rescuing me.”

 

Emma’s not sure how she plans to get out, but she tries, thinking Regina would rather her just… go. Besides, she needs to somehow get home or tell Snow she’s okay. She only makes it a few steps away from the bed before Regina grabs her arm.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

She shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like the dark poses a  _ problem _ for me…” 

 

“Emma, it’s not you. It’s--” 

 

“‘Me?’”

 

“I’m serious, Emma. It’s not about the dark. Nighttime is dangerous. I trust you, but… not everyone else.”

 

Emma sighs, “Look, I know you’re worried about me travelling home alone, but Snow is probably worried about me too. She hasn’t heard a word from me since I left this morning. I need her to know I’m okay.”

 

“Can’t you send her a message?”

 

“I mean--”

 

“If you know any bird calls, you can do that. Let her know you’re safe, stay here for the night, and in the morning before Mother wakes up I can help you get home safe.”

 

“I don’t need you to walk me home.”

 

“I know, but… maybe I want to spend time with you,” Regina admits in a soft voice.

 

_ That seems fair _ , Emma supposes.

 

 

 

(Regina)

 

_ It’s fine. Everything is  _ fine are the thoughts running through Regina’s mind from the minute she hears her mother mention Potentially Emma, to the minute she lays eyes on Emma standing confused in the dungeon, to the long moment where she tells Emma who she really is, and now, in the moment where she’s stopped Emma from going home that night, helped her deliver a message to her adoptive mother, and now stands, palms sweaty, as something occurs to her. 

 

Emma Swan is about to stay the night in her room. 

 

_ It’s fine _ .  _ Everything is fine _ , she thinks as the cliche dawns on her. She only has one bed. It shouldn’t make her panic. It  _ shouldn’t _ . She and Emma are friends after all.

 

“Um, so you can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” she says, but it comes out with a noticeable amount of intonation on the end, and Regina rolls her eyes at herself.

 

“So,” Emma starts, her face a picture of confusion. “You live in this big ass castle and you’re telling me you have a bed too small for two people?”

 

“No...” 

 

“Then we can share,” Emma shrugs.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Regina says, trying to sound casual. At least Emma can’t see any of her nervous habits. “I’m gonna change, I guess.”

 

Emma laughs, “Are you going to tell me not to look?”

 

“No,” Regina grumbles, fighting a smile at the adorable laugh that leaves Emma’s lips. 

 

She turns turned away from Emma while she changes, and by the time she’s facing the bed again, Emma’s already burrowed herself under the covers. Regina snorts, “You certainly make yourself at home, don’t you?”

 

“Okay, in my defense, your bed is the most comfy thing I’ve ever sat on. It’s like I’m on a cloud.”

 

Regina chuckles, climbing in next to the blonde. “My next question was going to make sure you were comfortable, but I suppose I don’t need to ask anymore.”

 

“You still can if you want,” Emma says, rolling towards Regina. 

 

“Okay,” Regina smiles, “Are you comfortable?”

 

Emma rests her head against Regina’s shoulder before answering. “Yes.”

 

Somehow with Emma there, Regina falls asleep easier than before, and she feels more well rested than she has in weeks when she wakes up. She hears the blonde’s light snoring, and it’s the last thing she registers before her other senses kick in (most of them anyway).

 

As the big spoon to Emma’s body, the sense that stands out to her the most is  _ touch _ , her whole body burning when she feels Emma’s skin  _ everywhere _ . Against her face, under her fingertips, pressed against her bare legs, and it’s all she can do to not suddenly burst into what she thinks might be a gay panic attack. 

 

Or maybe she’s just nervous.

 

It’s not really a position she’s ever found herself in with any other friends.

 

She can hear Emma waking up with a little squeak followed by a yawn, and she rolls over in Regina’s arms almost as if she doesn’t realize she’s there. 

 

The brunette is definitely panicking now, gay or not, as she debates pretending to be asleep, but remembers too late that it’s more about her breathing patterns than her eyes being closed, and her erratic heart rate is probably what gives her away when Emma nuzzles into her neck, her arms tight around Regina’s waist.

 

She knows the minute Emma’s awake because the blonde shifts back a little. “Um… hi?”

 

“Good morning,” Regina says, her voice breathless. She moves away from Emma, just in case the blonde is uncomfortable, but it all becomes moot when the blanket shifts and Regina gets a clear  _ visual _ answer to a question she’d never thought to ask, regarding Emma’s sleepwear, or lack thereof. “Um...”

 

Emma seems confused until the wind blows. “Oh,” she says, blushing, sitting up and bringing the blanket with her. “Sorry I--”

 

“It’s okay…” Regina says at the same time. “I’m not--”

 

“I know. I’m gonna…” she gestures vaguely in the direction of the pile of clothes on the floor Regina doesn’t know how she missed before. 

 

“Me too,” Regina says, climbing out of bed and trying to forget how soft and how warm the skin of Emma’s stomach was against her fingers. Once she’s dressed, and she doesn’t hear Emma moving around anymore, she turns around to see Emma, fully clothed, rocking on her feet, a heavy blush gracing her cheeks as she waits for Regina. 

 

“We need to sneak you out before Mother wakes up,” she says, and Emma nods in agreement. Regina takes Emma’s hand again, but it doesn’t feel the same as it had last night, even if she’s just imagining Emma’s breath hitching slightly at the contact.

 

She leads Emma through the castle, both watching and listening for signs of her mother. She glances at the blonde as they walk through guards, surprised at how little suspicion she rouses, moving her eyes around as if she can see everything the glance at so that the guards don’t ask questions.

 

They don’t say anything until they’re out of the castle and entering the woods, away from prying ears. “You blended in really well back there,” Regina comments.

 

Emma grins with a shrug, “I told you I was capable.” She lets her hand fall from Regina’s as she marches forward, only impressing the brunette even more as she navigates herself through the woods a few feet before turning back around. “You coming?”

 

 

(Emma)

 

For about half the walk, Emma moves through the trees on her own, and she could have done that the whole way, she really could have, but she kind of  _ misses _ holding Regina’s hand. She thinks she’s probably already been impressive enough. Asking for help wouldn’t be so bad. 

 

She stops and waits until she feels Regina right next to her, their hands almost brushing together. “Uh, I’m a little less familiar with this part,” Emma explains. If Regina thinks about it, she’ll know how flimsy of an excuse it is, but Emma isn’t going to dwell on it.

 

“Is it okay if I hold your hand again?” 

 

Emma nods, and their hands are joined once more. Emma’s heart skips a beat.

 

In addition to being able to hold hands, Regina’s help means that they can have a conversation, as Emma needs less focus, relying on the other girl to guide her.

 

“So,” Emma starts. She doesn’t know where the conversation is going until the words leave her mouth. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? That you’re a princess?”

 

Regina takes a deep breath, her hand twitching in Emma’s just before she says, “I wanted you to like me for me. Not because of social status or anything.”

 

At that Emma snorts. “Did you really think I would be the kind of person who would care about that?” The other girl’s hand shifts enough to let Emma know that she shrugged. “I still don’t, for the record. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met,” she admits before she can get too nervous to stop herself.

 

“Thanks,” Regina says, the smile audible in her voice. Emma smiles back at her. “I could say the same about you.”

 

“You  _ could _ ?” Emma teases.

 

“I  _ do _ ,” Regina corrects, and Emma hopes she doesn’t look at her and notice her blushing.

 

They make it back to Snow’s cottage not too long later, only making Emma’s comment about being unfamiliar with the area fall through even more, but if Regina thinks it’s unusual, she doesn’t say anything.

 

Emma lets them both in, and before she can wonder if Snow’s around, the woman is suddenly there, wrapping Emma into a tight hug that she can only half reciprocate, one of her hands still in Regina’s. “You got my message right?”

 

“Oh! Yes, I did. I’m just happy to see you. I thought something had happened.”

 

“Well…” Emma starts, turning to Regina. If their fingers weren’t still intertwined, Emma wouldn’t be sure she was there at all. “Something did kind of happen, but Regina saved me.” She smiles in the other girl’s direction.

 

When their hands separate, she figures Regina is shaking Snow’s hand, and it’s essentially confirmed when Regina says, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things.”

 

“Likewise,” Snow responds. She’s smiling, and Regina is too, even if her voice is a little shaky. “I’m making breakfast. Do you want to stay?”

 

Emma’s surprised when Regina agrees, but she leads the other girl to the table to wait, away from Snow, who she’s sure would be shooting her looks if Emma could see them. She can only imagine the string of questions she’s going to get when Regina leaves.

 

But first, they have to make it through breakfast. It isn’t too bad, really. Snow is civil, and most importantly  _ normal _ , and most of her questions for Regina are about her interests and about how she and Emma met, even though she’s already heard the story from her adopted daughter’s point of view (not that Emma minds Regina’s retelling  _ at all _ ).

 

Since they’re sharing a meal, Emma keeps wondering if the taste thing will come up, and if it does, how Snow will handle it. Ever since Emma found out that Regina had never been able to taste anything, Emma had been obsessed with the concept of soulmates in a way she never had been before. She didn’t know what it meant, just that it meant  _ something _ . She doubted Regina could be  _ her  _ soulmate, but she was sure that she was  _ someone’s _ . Taste is such an odd sense to be born without.

 

Emma’s lost in thought over it, again, when Snow asks the inevitable, “What do you think?”

 

Emma tries not to react or look like anything out of the ordinary could present itself at any moment, and she does fine until Regina says, “It’s delicious, thank you,” and Emma almost spits out her water. 

 

But she doesn’t. She just swallows a little louder than normal and covers it up by smiling. “Yeah, it really is. As usual,” Emma responds, not pushing the issue.

 

Regina stays for a little while after breakfast to stay and talk. Emma doesn’t say much, just listens. She can hear the smile they’re both carrying, and if nothing else, it makes Emma smile in response, her heart swelling at the two of them so easily getting along. She wonders if Snow knows who Regina’s mother is, but it doesn’t come up until the end.

 

“I should go,” Regina says. “My mother is expecting me. I don’t want her to worry.”

 

“It’s so sweet to have a mother who cares so much about you.” Emma knows that Snow means well, but she still has to fight back a wince at the meaning the words hold, for herself once and for Regina  _ now _ . 

 

“Yeah…” Regina says, and Emma, hating how disheartened she sounds through what is probably a fake smile, a show for Snow, takes advantage of the circumstance by grabbing Regina’s hand as she stands. If anything their hand holding is silently acknowledged as a platonic assistance more than anything else, even in times like this when Emma doesn’t want it to mean… that, per se.

 

Regina follows the cue, bids her goodbyes to Snow and walks with Emma out the door, her whole hand-holding-is-helpful logic falling through with the fact that  _ she’s _ the one leading  _ Regina _ out the door. But the other girl doesn’t comment, and Emma doesn’t dare bring it up.

 

They walk a few paces before Regina stops. Emma feels her turn and is surprised when her other hand is taken up in Regina’s, but it’s probably just so she knows exactly where Regina is. Right in front of her. Suddenly Emma wonders if Regina is close enough that if she leaned forward enough, their lips would meet. She’s too dizzy at the thought to tell.

 

“So, do you want me to walk you back?”

 

There’s a moment of silence before Regina answers, something resembling a laugh escaping her lips, “No? I just walked  _ you _ back, remember? Besides, I don’t want you to risk your safety for me.” At that, Emma groans again, about to make  _ another _ retort about how her survival and navigation skills aren’t limited by her lack of vision, but before she can, Regina interrupts her. “I know. I meant about my mother.”

 

“Oh.” Emma had already forgotten she’d nearly spent the night in the woman’s dungeon. “Right.”

 

“Right,” Regina echoes.

 

“But…” Emma starts, trailing off when the rest of her words fully form in her mind and she realizes just how stupid she sounds. Maybe she can take it back.

 

“But?”

 

_ Or not _ . “But who’s supposed to make sure  _ you’re _ safe?”

 

She hears Regina’s breath catch just before the softest “I don’t know,” and all Emma wants to do is reach up and find Regina’s face with her hand, and she surprises herself when she does. Regina’s cheek is so soft, and the way she leans into Emma’s hand makes her heart melt.

 

“Be safe, okay? I’ll see you next week.”

 

 

(Regina)

 

The day she’s supposed to go see Emma again is inevitably ruined by her mother, again. 

 

“Regina, dear, so your birthday is coming up, and you’re coming of age. I hope you realize how much of your life is going to change.”

 

The brunette fights back a sigh, “Yes, Mother. More will be expected of me.”

 

“That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? You’ll be preparing to take the throne. Become queen in my place should something happen. Not that it  _ will _ ,” Cora adds with a haughty laugh. “But you need to know how to rule a kingdom, especially if an opportunity for a merger presents itself.”

 

“A merger?”

 

“Two kingdoms aligning,” Cora beams. “Through marriage.”

 

“Marriage!?” Regina squeaks, and her mother gives her an exasperated look. “Yes, Regina, marriage. You’re almost eighteen now. Surely you knew this day would come.”

 

“Yeah, but--”

 

“It’s not going to be  _ tomorrow _ or anything. Although, today, there are a few suitors arriving. You’ll be expected to dress the part. We’ve had a special dress made for you just for the occasion.”

 

“But I--”

 

“Oh, don’t tell me you have somewhere else to be,” her mother tuts. “I don’t want to hear it. You have responsibilities here, Regina. Things more important than gallivanting through the woods.”

 

That’s the last Regina hears of it, ushered to her room for preparation.

 

Her mother had told her there wasn’t a definite timeline, but it seemed like there was with the urgency of it all, the way her mother watched her with each man, that look in her eye that said  _ don’t disappoint me _ . Looking at each of the three men, Regina is sure that the only choice her mother would be disappointed by would be if she walked away completely.

 

All three of them are so…  _ generic _ . They all have boring names, are all about the same age, maybe five or six years older than her, and they smile the same smile, holding a fake hope that she will pick  _ them _ over the other two. Does it really matter that much to them?

 

She sits down for tea with one of them at a time, making polite conversation while her mother hovers at a distance with baited breath, and Regina has to force herself to not glance over at her with a roll of her eyes.

 

Throughout each of these little  _ meet and greets _ , all Regina can think about is Emma, hoping that the blonde doesn’t think that Regina just didn’t want to see her. She would know the impossibility of that by now, wouldn’t she? Alternatively, now that she knows who Regina really is, maybe she will know that something’s going on.

 

That, or Emma doesn’t want her.

 

Regina shakes the thought from her head, remembering Emma’s hand on her cheek, the way their hands just fit together, the smile on Emma’s face when Regina laughs. 

 

She thinks that tomorrow, she can go to her and explain everything, maybe even later tonight, but when the suitors leave, her mother is there again, smiling wide. “What did you think?” Regina doesn’t know what to say. She’d hardly been paying attention, so she shrugs. “Regina, you’re going to need to do better than that. You have less than a month.”

 

“W-what?” 

 

“You’ll be wed after your birthday.”

 

“But that’s less than a month away.” Cora’s response is the kind of smile Regina can’t stand. “Mother, that’s not  _ fair _ . I don’t want to wed  _ any _ of them.”

 

Cora releases a short laugh, “Well, by all means, find your own prince.”

 

“What if I don’t?”

 

“You  _ will _ . Or I choose for you.”

 

After that, she can’t find it in her to leave the castle, much less her room. She can’t see the positive, and she doesn’t want Emma to see her like this.  _ She’s better off without me after all,  _ she thinks.

 

 

(Emma)

 

When Regina misses their meeting, Emma is immediately worried. She knows the other girl would be there if she had a choice, but knowing who her mother is, what Regina’s role is, Emma can’t help but be a little on edge. 

 

Now that Regina knows where she lives, she wonders if the other girl will come by, but after a week, Emma is officially in a state of panic. “What if something happened to her? It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her. A week since we were last supposed to meet up. I think something’s wrong,” she babbles on to Snow as she makes quick paces through the kitchen.

 

“Emma, sit down, please. You’re making me nervous.”

 

“You don’t  _ understand _ ,” Emma stops, her hands raised in exasperation, “Something happened. This isn’t  _ right _ .”

 

“Could you send her a message?”

 

“Too risky.”

 

“Have you gone by her house?” Snow offers.

 

“No…” Emma says. She still hasn’t said anything to Snow about who Regina is, where she lives, and it’s the kind of thing that would directly influence the woman’s answer, but Emma asks anyway. “Do you think I should?”

 

“Emma, trust your instinct. Has it ever led you wrong?” Emma shakes her head. And okay,  _ maybe _ it hasn’t always been completely helpful, but it has gotten her this far, and this is  _ Regina _ they’re talking about. 

 

“Okay.” Emma nods, a spark of confidence shifting her whole attitude. “I’m going to go.”

 

“Right now? Do you need an escort?”

 

“No. I mean  _ yes _ , right now. But I’ll be fine on my own, If anything goes wrong, I’ll send you a message.”

 

Emma sets out, but she knows that she’ll  _ need _ someone to help her if she’s planning on going on the castle’s grounds, especially if she’s planning to break into Regina’s room, which would likely mean climbing through the window. Having been in the castle just the one time, she can’t trust herself to make it on her own, as reluctant as she is to ask for help.

 

Her first choice is Ruby, Snow’s best friend, who lives not too far from them. She’s been there for most of Emma’s growing up, and has become a trusted friend of her own now that she’s older. She’s been in the castle before and has serious skills when it comes to navigation and stealth, so naturally, she’s the person Emma goes to. 

 

“I need your help.”

 

Ruby doesn’t baby her as they journey to the castle, something Emma greatly appreciates, and she doesn’t ask too many questions or cast judgement when Emma recounts the story of how she and Regina met and the night Emma found out that she was royalty. She doesn’t push for information in all the places Snow has, and she doesn’t give advice where Emma isn’t looking for it.

 

When they get to the astle, Ruby has her wait a little ways off, just in case. “I’ll be right back. I just need to gather some intel real quick. Don’t go anywhere,” she instructs.

 

“Okay,” Emma agrees, making herself comfortable, leaning back against a tree. Ruby isn’t gone for very long, maybe about half an hour, and when she calls out Emma’s name, loud with excitement, Emma startles.

 

“Sorry,” Ruby dismisses, giving Emma all of two seconds to recover. “It’s just, I have news. And I know which window is hers.”

 

“Good news?” Emma asks as she climbs to her feet.

 

“Your girl has been in her room all week long, refusing guests,” Ruby says, and Emma’s brows furrow together, hearing a smile at the delivery of the news.

 

“Why is that good?”

 

“Well, maybe it’s not  _ great _ , but it confirms that something happened. And if you sneak in, you know she’ll be in there.”

 

“Yeah, but… if she’s been rejecting company, what makes you think she’d want to see me?”

 

Ruby scoffs. “You’re the exception, Emma. I’m sure of it.” Emma is less sure, but she lets Ruby drag her inside the royal grounds, sneaking around until they’ve stopped. “This is it.”

 

Emma reaches her hand out until it meets the wall. She can tell it won’t be an easy climb, by any means, but it could be worse. It isn’t a flat wall, and the bricks are large enough that she’ll be able to hold herself up by them, but climbing blind has never been something Emma has enjoyed.  _ For Regina, it’s worth it _ , she thinks.

 

“How high?”

 

Ruby hesitates long enough for Emma to get an idea. “About thirty feet.” Emma exhales a shaky breath. “But it’s a straight shot, and the bricks are consistent. Plus, I’ll be down here until you make it in. The window is open too, so that should help.”

 

“Okay…” Emma says as she grips the wall, getting in position. She’s nervous, but confident she’ll make it. She’s never climbed anything this high, but the consistency of the castle’s exterior should be easier than rocks or tree branches at least. 

 

She turns to Ruby one last time with a smile. “Thanks for your help.”

 

“No problem, Em,” she says, serious for a brief moment before she smacks Emma on the ass. “Now go get your girl.”

 

Emma laughs, winking in Ruby’s direction. “Don’t wait up.”

 

 

 

(Regina)

 

She hasn’t seen anyone in days. She hasn’t seen Emma in  _ weeks _ , and if there’s anyone she’d be okay with seeing, it would be her. But there’s no way Regina could get out of the castle without running into her mother or someone that would take her to her mother.

 

Cora had tried, of course, to get Regina out of her room, but she had no desire to do so. She isn’t about to marry some random  _ prince _ , and she’s confident that her finding one on her own won’t make a difference. Maybe she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, but it’s certainly not a  _ prince _ .

 

Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a strange noise outside the window, and Regina sits up in alarm, not sure what it could be. Some kind of animal? An intruder? Regina scowls. If it’s one of those damn princes trying to prove themselves…

 

But then she catches a glimpse of blonde just before a hand reaches up, grasping at the windowsill, and Regina gasps, lunging off the bed and running to help. She can’t  _ believe _ …

 

Her heart is racing until Emma is completely in her room, both feet on the floor, and even then, it doesn’t seem to be slowing down. The blonde grins at her, “Hi.”

 

Regina gapes at her, “What were you  _ thinking _ , Emma? You could have  _ died _ !”

 

“But I didn’t,” Emma responds with a smug grin, turning to wave vaguely out the window. Curious, Regina looks down and sees another woman waving back up at them, a proud smile on her face. She waves back, a little confused. 

 

“Who was that?” she asks as the woman walks away.

 

“Ruby. She’s a friend. I couldn’t get here without help,” she shrugs.

 

“Why  _ are _ you here?” Regina asks. “I still can’t believe you climbed up here. If you’d have fallen…”

 

“I  _ didn’t _ ,” Emma reiterates, reaching for Regina’s hand. “Besides, it didn’t matter to me. I was so worried about you, Regina. What’s going on?” The blonde takes a step closer, and even though she isn’t  _ looking _ at her, her green eyes are still so full of concern. 

 

“It’s… not good.”

 

“Tell me,” Emma urges, stroking along Regina’s hand with her thumb, and the brunette almost releases a sob at the softness of the gesture. 

 

“My mother has suitors for me. Princes. She’s going to make me marry one within the month.” Emma doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and it’s in the silence that Regina lets herself cry, the tears roll silently, and she wonders if Emma knows they’re there.

 

“That isn’t fair,” Emma finally says, gripping Regina’s hands harder in her own. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

 

“I don’t think so,” she says, her voice giving away her tears.

 

Emma takes in a deep breath, her face shifting into something angry as she shakes her head. “She can’t do this to you. Regina, it isn’t  _ fair _ …”

 

“I know.”

 

“No,” Emma says, voice resolute. “I’m not going to let this happen. We’re gonna find a way, Regina. I’ll help you.” Emma’s eyes are lit with a fire unlike any Regina’s ever seen, and if anyone ever thought Emma’s eyes were a  _ waste _ , as her mother might say, Regina can say with certainty that they are anything but.

 

They are fierce and impassioned, ready to fight for Regina, and even though Emma can’t see the effect they have on her, it definitely exists, and her stomach flips as her whole body buzzes with something she’s just now understanding. A  _ need _ for Emma, a longing that she’s never had for anyone, something so urgent that Regina has to fight it, leaning her forehead against Emma’s just to quell her heart a little bit. 

 

“Regina?” It comes out soft, a little lost and a little broken, but when Emma says her name, it sounds new to her, like it has been waiting to be spoken in such a way since it became hers, and now that it’s finally happening, it makes the whole situation harder because the truth is suddenly there.

 

She doesn’t want a  _ prince. _ She wants Emma.

 

 

(Emma)

 

She sends a message to Snow while Regina gets ready for bed, letting her know that everything is okay, more or less, and she’ll be staying with Regina for the night. 

 

Emma borrows something to sleep in from Regina, but she blushes when the other girl offers, remembering the last time. “I mean, you don’t  _ have _ to borrow anything. If you’re more comfortable without… um… it’s up to you,” Regina struggles to say, and Emma tries not to let out a giddy laugh at her expense. 

 

“Um, okay,” she says.

 

It’s awkward, but it’s better than the disheartened sound of Regina’s voice when she explained everything and better than the moment she hears a sob escape Regina’s lips from the bed next to her. 

 

She’s more upset now that she had been earlier, and Emma almost wonders if her presence is somehow making it worse, but she’s not going to leave. She does almost the opposite as she reaches for Regina, easing the other girl into her arms and holding her as her broken sobs become more frequent.

 

Emma strokes Regina’s hair until they ease up, and even when they stop, she can still feel the dampness of Regina’s tears against her collarbone. 

 

“Hey, Regina?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What color is your hair?”

 

Regina laughs, wet but almost happy, if only for a moment. “Brown.”

 

“Brown,” Emma repeats. “Like trees?”

 

“Maybe more like mud,” Regina amends, shifting in place next to Emma, looping an arm over her waist. Emma’s breath catches, thinking again about the proximity of Regina’s lips to her own.

 

“Mud? But don’t people think mud is… gross?”

 

“I guess you’re right,” Regina says, and Emma can tell she’s smiling. Even if she can’t fix the situation, if she can keep the other girl smiling, it would be enough. 

 

“Your hair isn’t gross,” Emma points out, running her fingers through it again, and she can feel Regina’s breath hot against her nose when she laughs.

 

“Thanks. Yours isn’t either.”

 

“What’s it look like?”

 

“No one’s told you before?”

 

Emma shrugs, “No, I’ve never asked. I just know there’s a lot of it.”

 

Regina’s fingers dance at her hairline for a moment before weaving through Emma’s hair. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and she swears she can  _ hear _ Regina smiling without her having to say a word. Is that how close she is to her? “That’s true,” she confirms. “It’s yellow. Like the sun.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes,” Regina says, voice happier than she’s heard it all night, and Emma’s heart soars.

 

“I’ve never heard of anyone having yellow hair before,” she admits.

 

“Maybe it’s only for the best people. Hair like sunshine.”

 

Emma hesitates to ask, but the words leave her mouth of their own volition. “Do any of your suitors have yellow hair?”

 

It’s a moment before Regina answers, and when she does, her voice is weighted again despite the soft admission. “No.”

 

She can’t explain the relief that brings her. That she has something these men don’t, something that Regina thinks highly of. She wishes she could see, just to read Regina’s expressions, for any kind of indication at the thoughts going on through her mind, but all she has are the soft and steady breaths against her nose, and the way Regina’s fingers work through her hair, the way her other hand snakes around to rest against the back of Emma’s neck.

 

In turn, she rests a hand to Regina’s cheek, gasping softly when she feels the tears there. 

 

She wants to kiss them away.

 

She wants to keep them away, forever.

 

It’s an impossible thought to ignore, that maybe she doesn’t want Regina’s suitors to have  _ sunshine _ hair because she wants Regina to think hers is the best. Because Regina  _ is _ the best, and Regina  _ deserves _ the best, and even if  _ the best _ isn’t Emma, she wants to spend the rest of her life bringing a smile to Regina’s lips, even if she never gets to see it herself.

 

She doesn’t want Regina to marry any suitors, unless Emma happens to be one of them.

 

Emma thinks again about soulmates, but she’s too afraid to let her mind linger on the idea.

 

“Emma?” Regina asks. Her voice breaks, and Emma can’t stand it.

 

She brushes the tears from Regina’s cheeks with her thumbs, her fingers gliding over the space with ease, and it soon becomes less about Regina’s tears and more about  _ her _ . She’s feeling the patterns of Regina’s face, and her hand returns to her soft,  _ nothing-like-mud _ hair before Emma whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

 

She isn’t expecting for Regina’s forehead to meet hers in the same way it did earlier, or for Regina to cry more. Emma responds with more fervent strokes to her hair. She feels bold enough to press a kiss to Regina’s nose, and she’s grateful when she doesn’t miss. 

 

“How do you know that?” Regina asks her, almost inaudible through her tears. 

 

“I just do.”

 

 

 

(Regina)

 

She waited too long to choose, and just as Cora had promised, she did it for her. She doesn’t even remember which guy it is, and she doesn’t care, doesn’t want anything to do with him.

 

The time she’s seen Emma lately has been scarce, and most of their moments together had been less than fun, Regina falling apart at the seams every time she laid eyes on the blonde. It became more and more evident to Regina that she wouldn’t be happy with anyone else, and she wasn’t interested in trying to be.

 

But they had no solution to Regina’s predicament, not that Emma knew the full extent of it, and now here Regina was, being told by her mother that the wedding was to take place in a week, and she had no choice but to resign herself to it.

 

Emma insisted that doing so didn’t make her weak, rather, it made her strong, but the brunette begged to differ. She had to go through with it because of her mother’s power over her, something that certainly  _ did _ make her weak.

 

If she was strong like Emma believes, she would be able to refuse. She would be able to boldly tell the blonde how she feels about her, and not only that, but she would be able to fight for the right to marry her instead, despite social class and  _ conflict of interest _ as she’d heard people calling it, refusing to use the word  _ homophobia _ .

 

Even so, Regina has her doubts. She knows she loves Emma, and she knows that Emma at least  _ cares  _ about her, but she doesn’t think the blonde could possibly want her back. Then if she did, Regina knew that Emma deserved better than the life Regina could give her, tied to one place with the pressure to rule and be a formidable leader. 

 

Though, she thinks if Emma were to show up and tell her that she loved her too, Regina would elope with her in a heartbeat, abandoning the kingdom and never looking back.

 

But it’s nothing more than a fantasy.

 

Today is just another day moping around, the day that ends Regina’s life as she knows it looming closer, and she can’t even fake a smile. 

 

Cora frowns at her in disapproval, no traces of sympathy. “You should be happy, dear. You’re getting married.

 

Regina scowls at her mother. “I don’t love him.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Marriage isn’t about love. It’s about  _ power _ . Do you think I married  _ your father _ because I  _ loved _ him?”

 

Something about it, combined with the past few weeks of pent up frustration at her mother, sets Regina off, and everything from the past few weeks just pushes its way forward. She loses control, yelling at her mother about how  _ ridiculous _ it is to expect Regina to get married  _ right now _ to someone she didn’t even choose. “I  _ just _ turned eighteen, Mother!  _ You _ didn’t get married when you were eighteen, did you? Why do I have to?”

 

Cora just stands patiently, waiting for Regina to finish shouting about it. She probably thinks she has all the answers, but she doesn’t. Regina knows she doesn’t.

 

“Maybe you think the soulmate thing is  _ bullshit _ , but Cook told me! She couldn’t smell until she met Eli, and he couldn’t hear! But for the last forty years of his life, he could, and she can still smell. You were  _ there _ , too. Maybe you weren’t  _ friendly _ with them, but you  _ knew _ them. How could you not believe?

 

“And then, there’s  _ me _ . What kind of disability is having no taste, anyway? I could have a soulmate out there, but I’ll never know because you’re marrying me off to the first prince you could find,” Regina scowls.

 

“Oh, you mean like that blind girl?” Regina’s eyes widen. “I know you were the one that broke her out of the dungeon. Emma, is it?”

 

“Leave her out of this.”

 

“You’re the one who believes a poor blind girl could be your soulmate. I hoped you knew you could do better than that but clearly I was mistaken. Unless you think you can  _ fix _ her,” Cora scoffs. “Soulmates… how unlikely.”

 

“I never said we were soulmates or even that we could be. Soulmate or not, I  _ love _ her. I  _ choose _ her.”

 

Cora laughs, “Who said you  _ had _ a choice, dear?”

 

Regina is about to fight back, but before she can, her suitor walks through the door, and Regina turns away with another scowl. She’s not even sure she remembers what his name is. Michael? John? She doesn’t care. 

 

“Ah, Matthew, so glad you made it on time,” Cora says, floating over to him and looping her arm in his, leading him over to Regina. “Regina has something she wants to tell you.”

 

 

(Emma)

 

When a bird flies into the window that morning, perches itself on Emma’s knee, and drops a paper in her lap, she’s stunned, to say the least. She doesn’t get bird messages from anyone but Snow, and the woman is just as surprised.

 

“Who’s it from?”

 

Emma shrugs as she picks it up. It isn’t in Braille, so she walks over to Snow. “I don’t know…”

 

Snow takes the paper, and there’s a long silence before she says anything about it. “Emma… this is from the queen.”

 

“What!?” Emma gapes, sitting next to Snow and nudging her arm. “Read it!”

 

“Okay…” Snow says, unsure. “It says: ‘Emma, I know that you and my daughter have been seeing each other behind my back. I want you to know that you have my blessing. If you could please come to the castle today at noon that would be wonderful. The guards at the gate will lead you to the correct room. Best wishes, Queen Cora.’”

 

Emma has Snow read it again. “Are you sure that’s what it says?”

 

“Yes… Emma, is Regina the queen’s daughter?” Emma nods, still trying to wrap her head around this. It honestly sounds too good to be true, and she doesn’t trust Cora, but that seems to be all the more reason to go. “Are you two… dating? I thought…”

 

“No, we’re not, but... “

 

“You love her?”

 

“I think… I think she could be my soulmate. She can’t taste. She’s never been able to. And when I’m with her, I feel safe. Everything just fits, and she makes me feel special and  _ wanted _ and she doesn’t know that I love her and she doesn’t know that I think we’re soulmates, but… I think she could love me too.” She’s crying by the time she’s done, overwhelmed with the idea she’s been too afraid to let herself think about. “I’m scared,” she admits softly.

 

“Do you want to go over there?” 

 

“I…” She’s at a loss. It can’t be real, but it  _ is _ , and whether Cora plans to kill her or actually give Emma her blessing, at least she’ll have another chance to tell Regina how she really feels, and if something really is wrong, Emma can be there to help.

 

Besides, it’s not like she hasn’t gone in blind before.

 

“How much time do we have?”

 

“Maybe an hour.”

 

“Will you help me get there? I don’t want to be late. Just in case.”

 

So they prepare for the walk, and Emma grows more nervous as they set out. They make most of the walk in silence, and when they get there, Snow hugs her, holding her there for long enough to make her feel like something is bound to go wrong. 

 

“It’ll be fine,” Emma says. “Just go back home, okay? I can send you a message if anything goes wrong. Or right,” she adds with a nervous chuckle.

 

“I trust you, Emma. Good luck in there,” she gives her a final hug before stepping away, and Emma takes a few lost steps towards the castle. 

 

As promised, a guard stops her. “Are you Emma Swan?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“You can follow me,” he says before offering his arm, and she takes it, letting him lead her into the castle. They go into the castle and through a few hallways before he comes to a stop. “Wait here. There’s a bench behind you if you want to sit down. The Queen will be with you shortly.”

 

“Okay…” Emma says, slowly lowering herself down to the bench.

 

She’s only there for a minute before she hears Regina’s voice drifting down the hallway, coming from a neary room. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but it’s  _ Regina _ and she no longer feels like waiting for Cora to show up.

 

She decides to walk closer.

 

 

 

(Regina)

 

“Regina has something she wants to tell you.”

 

“No, I--”

 

But Cora interrupt her. “Regina you just told me…” she drops her voice lower. “The soulmate stuff remember?”

 

“Soulmates?” the guy says, an optimistic grin on his face, and Regina wants to groan. What is her mother up to?

 

“Oh, um…” She eyes Cora, who raises her eyebrows, indicating that there’s only one right way to talk about the subject. “I believe in soulmates,” she says, smiling politely at him and trying to cover up how she really feels about this entire exchange.

 

“Do you think you’ve met the love of your life?” Cora prompts a little louder than the last time, giving Regina  _ that look  _ again, and she feels even more lost at the entire situation. She looks quizzically at her mother, who just raises her eyebrows even more. “It’s a simple question, and I think you know the answer,” she whispers, loud enough for only Regina to hear. “Do you think you’ve met the love of your life?” she asks again, louder.

 

“Yes... “ Regina answers, thinking only of Emma.

 

When Cora turns to Matthew, Regina starts to actively worry. “What about you? Do you think you’ve met the love of your life?”

 

It takes every ounce of effort Regina has in her to  _ not  _ cringe at the dopey eyed smile this guy gives her. “I think so.”

 

How it happens, she has no idea, but her suitor’s lips are on hers, domineering and wet, and she hates it.  _ Hates it _ . She can’t imagine doing this for another  _ second _ , let alone the rest of her life, and  _ maybe _ if she had taste, she wouldn’t be so focused on the  _ feel  _  of it, but she is. His lips move and it gets worse, like he’s trying to take up the whole space of her mouth, and then it’s not just a  _ feeling _ but a sound, and she pulls away then, unable to take it anymore, and as she does, there’s another sound from the doorway, strangled and broken.

 

The suitor looks down at her, sad, and maybe a little offended, but Regina hardly notices and definitely doesn’t care, because her eyes are now on the source of the noise in the doorway. It’s Emma, and Regina notices the tears in her eyes just before she turns and runs.

 

Regina’s about to go after her when Cora’s hand lands on her arm. She rips it back, looking at her mother in disgust. “You did this.”

 

“It was for the best, dear,” Cora says as she reaches for Regina again, a motion that could be for comfort, but Regina knows it’s only for restraint. She flinches back in time to avoid it. 

 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hisses. Cora smirks, as if she actually still has the upper hand, but Regina refuses to believe it. “I’m going to fix this. And when I do, I’m gone. You don’t have power of my choices or my life. You can’t control who I love or what I do. I’m going after her. Don’t you dare try and stop me,” and then she’s running too.

 

 

(Emma)

 

Running blind down an unfamiliar hallway is hard, but not as hard as hearing Regina and some nobody confess their love and then  _ kiss _ . She’s crying as she goes, and it doesn’t even matter. Nothing seems to.

 

Somehow she’s able to find a corner to duck around, where she leans her back against the wall and slides down until she’s sitting, sobbing into her hands and hoping that this hallway is as empty as the last seemed to be. 

 

Cora had set her up for heartbreak, that much was clear, and since Regina didn’t love her, she was pretty sure no one had followed her here. It was only a matter of time before a guard came to throw her out. Or in the dungeon. Whichever it was, Emma didn’t care.

 

She was stupid to come here, to listen to Cora, to believe she had a chance with Regina, to believe in soulmates.

 

As if she wasn’t crying enough, the thought of soulmates has her sobbing so hard that her breathing becomes erratic, and it takes her a minute to realize that someone is in front of her, gently trying to tug her up. 

 

She complies, thinking she’s about to be kicked to the curb, literally this time, but instead of being pulled back down the hallway, strong arms wrap around her, and she hears her name, whispered so soft that it sounds impossible.

 

Regina chased after her.

 

It just makes her cry harder, and Emma realizes that she isn’t even mad at Regina for falling for the prince instead of her. Instead, she’s mad at herself for letting herself fall for Regina. She chastised herself only moments ago for believing they were soulmates, but in  _ this _ moment, with Regina’s hand on her hair, her  _ yellow sunshine-like _ hair, she still believes it, and it breaks her heart that Regina doesn’t.

 

She feels Regina pull back, but she doesn’t leave. She cups Emma’s face with one hand, lacing their fingers together with the other. “Emma, please,” she says, and the sound of her voice quiets Emma just a little. 

 

_ Is Regina crying? _

 

“Emma, I hate this. I hate seeing you upset. I…” she trails off, and Emma feels Regina’s lips soft against her cheek before her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

 

“I don’t understand,” Emma says. “You… that guy…”

 

“Emma, no,” Regina responds. “It was a set up… My mother, she…”

 

“Why?” Emma stops crying, and she feels Regina pull back to look at her.

 

“Because she knows I don’t love him.”

 

“But you said--”

 

“It’s  _ you _ , Emma. I love  _ you _ .”

 

Emma’s brow furrows. “Wait…”

 

At that Regina lets out a laugh, soft and a little watered down, and Emma is frozen in place, knowing what she heard, but, much like something else she’s heard recently, it seems too good to be true.

 

“Regina?” Emma asks, at a loss for any word that isn’t Regina’s name. She has questions,  _ so many _ questions, but she can’t think to ask any of them, her brain swimming,  _ drowning _ even as she’s sure it suddenly stopped getting enough oxygen.

 

The way Regina’s finger hooks under her chin doesn’t help, and Emma’s eyes close, remembering the times she imagined closing the space between their lips, and suddenly it’s all she can think about.

 

When she feels Regina’s lips brush against hers,  _ so _ soft and  _ so _ tentative, it’s an answer to all the questions Emma hadn’t known how to ask, a resolution to the fears she’d had up until this moment, and she is entirely overwhelmed.

 

She threads a hand through Regina’s hair to pull her closer, and when she does, Regina sighs against her mouth. She thinks Regina’s crying again, but then Emma’s back is pressed into the wall and Regina’s tongue is in her mouth and she is  _ dizzy _ . She grips Regina’s waist with her other hand, brushing the other through her hair, and she whines a little when Regina pulls away suddenly.

 

“Emma,” she gasps.

 

“Oh my god,” she responds, leaning her forehead against Regina’s. She’s sure that she would be falling over if she weren’t supported in between Regina’s body and the wall.

 

“Emma…” Regina says again, more serious despite the laugh she’s obviously holding back.

 

“What--”

 

“Open your eyes,” she says, not even bothering to let Emma finish.

 

When she does as she says, she can see why. Literally.

 

She blinks rapidly at first, overwhelmed by the light and the color and the surprise of it all, but it doesn’t take long for her eyes to focus on the pair in front of her, dark and bright at the same time, crinkled at the edges as the beauty in front of her smiles. Everything blurs for a moment, but Emma blinks and her vision is back in full, as she feels the tears rolling down her face.

 

“Regina?” 

 

The other girl smiles back at her, wider than before, and her eyes are filling with tears, just as Emma’s are again.

 

She says her name again just to see her smile once more.

 

Regina laughs as she pulls Emma back to her, her hands soft on her face, closing her eyes as their lips meet. Emma thinks it might be a little weird, kissing with her eyes open, but she never wants to look away from Regina again.

 

“Wait,” Emma says, pulling back again. “Does this mean you--”

 

“I already told you I did,” Regina grins.

 

“I love you too,” Emma says, initiating the kiss herself this time, wrapping her arms around Regina’s waist to pull her closer, the other girl tangling her hands in Emma’s hair. She moans into the blonde’s mouth, but then pulls back again with a smirk. “What now?” Emma whines.

 

“Your lips…”

 

“Yeah?” Emma laughs. 

 

“They’re the first thing I’ve ever tasted. The only thing… so far.”

 

She’s crying again, and Emma brushes the tears away with a smile, “And the first thing I ever saw was your beautiful face.”

 

It makes the weight of it all more real. 

 

“I knew it, you know,” Emma says. “That we were soulmates.”

 

Regina grins up at her, eyes full of love, and the blonde pushes a strand of hair from her eyes. 

 

“So this is brown?”

 

“Yes, and this is yellow,” Regina says, twirling some of Emma’s hair between her fingers.

 

“I like yours better,” Emma laughs. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

 

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” Regina teases, bringing their lips together once more.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! (:


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